


The Light of Her Eyes

by JonsaInTheNorth



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-24 02:21:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7489566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JonsaInTheNorth/pseuds/JonsaInTheNorth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: “We are super old and wrinkly but you are still the most beautiful person in the world to me.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Light of Her Eyes

Jon smiles wider than he often does as he watches Sansa with the bundle in her arms. Her hair isn’t its auburn shade any longer. Instead, grey waves hang in a simple pleat over her shoulder. In her arms, eyes in the same shade of blue as her own follow the braid’s dangling edges. Torrhen’s first daughter is identical in nearly identical to his mother, and tears fill Sansa’s eyes as she holds the granddaughter her son named Catelyn.

He lifts himself from his chair, brushing off the offered help of his heir. Jon leans on his cane as he approaches Sansa. He offers a finger out to little Cat, who grabs it with a forceful grip. She is a quiet babe, but their is a fierceness in her akin to her grandmother.

“Oh, darling little girl.” Sansa breaths, quietly, so only they can hear. “You will be happy, I swear it.”

She looks up at Jon. “Thank you, love.”

“Why are you thanking me?” He laughs, and sits himself down on the chaise lounge. 

“You’ve protected us all for so long, you’ve made this beautiful life possible. For everyone.” Sansa explains. She coos down at Cat once more, before handing her back to her wet nurse. “Good night, little one.” 

The wet nurse nods and takes Cat away for her nap. Sansa looks to her son. “How fares your wife?”

“She was tired, but the birthing went as calmly as could be expected, Mother.” Torrhen says, glancing towards the door. “By your leave, I’d like to go see to her.”

“Give her our love, Tor.” Jon instructs. Torrhen has dark circles under his eyes and looks five years older. He followed after his father and stayed at his wife’s bedside the entire night. Jon can only imagine how tired Betha must be.  

In the silence of their son’s leaving, Sansa leans her head against Jon’s shoulder. She hums contentedly when Jon wraps his arm around her and draws patterns on her forearm with his thumb. 

Thirty years have past since the War of the Dawn, and life is peaceful. The last winter lasted barely two years; the one before it was only half of one. Their seven children are nearly all grown, with their youngest, Jocelyn, just past her fourteenth name-day. 

“We’ve had a beautiful life, haven’t we?” Her voice cracks a little as she asks, quietly.

Their grandchildren number twelve already, besides Cat. They are the parents to a Queen, and lords and ladies besides. They took the empty walls of Winterfell and filled it with the laughter of children, to calm the empty ache in both their hearts.

“We really  _do_.” He stresses. “But not half as beautiful as you.”

Jon presses a soft kiss against her creased forehead. He was not the husband she had dreamed of when she was young and loving of the songs, but she loves him now. He grew to love the way she sang to their children before bed each night. It was slow and careful, but Jon realized that Sansa has the prettiest  laugh in all seven kingdoms.

She has been his rock, through all the dark of the Longest Night, to the day Torrhen first scraped himself in the training yard. Sansa smiles up at Jon, her glittering eyes faced to him alone. The light thrown by the fire in the hearth illuminates every wrinkle and spot on her face, but she is as beautiful as she was when she returned to him at Castle Black.

Ages have past since they were children, but Winterfell is finally filled again with happy laughter and plenty of Starks. There is never-ending joy to be had here, and it is all because of Sansa.

Jon could die today, and he would know he left the happiest man in all the realms, loved by wife and family, glad to have survived to build something out of the rubble of the wars.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Originally, I had various lines talking about all twelve grandchildren but I realized they didn’t fit as I would like. Here you go:
> 
> Torrhen’s elder two boys, Robb and Benjen, are young and rowdy, already set to be great knights.
> 
> Lyarra, white-haired and blue-eyed, is Queen of Westeros, married to Daenerys’ Daeron, mother to Rhaegar, Aegon, Rhaena, and Daenys.
> 
> Tyrion’s twins, Lyanna and Arya, are the eldest of all of them, as their father married young.
> 
> Jeyne went south with her sister, and wed the heir of Tarth, and gave him an heir, Briena, as well as Alysanne and Roslin. 
> 
> Brandon’s wife just bore her first child, a girl named Tyene who has not met the Lord and Lady of Winterfell.
> 
> And their youngest son Eddard is betrothed to the daughter and heir of House Giantsbane.
> 
> Come hang out and fangirl about Jonsa and other ASOIAF/GOT goodness with me on [tumblr](http://jonsa-in-the-north.tumblr.com).


End file.
